


What Maketh a Man... And a Cait

by The_Moss_Stomper



Series: Let Uncle Reno Tell You a Story... [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Adventure, Dr. Tuesti and his Creature, Dragons, Fairy Tale Style, Gen, Humor, Reno is a dragon, because of course he makes himself a freaking dragon in his own story, more like Fairy Tale - Turk Style, silly fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7348474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Moss_Stomper/pseuds/The_Moss_Stomper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reeve the inventor arrives at King Shinra's court seeking patronage; instead, he is posed a challenge that promises either a very bright future or a very short one. Worst of all, the task is clearly impossible – or is it? Desperate times call for desperate alliances, and Reeve ends up with strange – and unsavory – bedfellows. Soon, he realizes his attempts to avoid the king's punishment have only dropped him in hotter water...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Maketh a Man... And a Cait

The young inventor dared not breathe. The king's answer would decide his whole future.

"I will grant your request for patronage," declared King Shinra at last.

Reeve breathed in.

"If..."

_Oh fiddlesticks_ , thought Reeve.

"...you complete a challenge!"

"As you wish, Sire," said he with a genteel smile, for he wished to keep his head a while longer.

"You will bring to me a seer of the future!"

The court quivered with poorly contained excitement. _It will not be that simple_ , they reassured each other in hushed tones. _It never is!_

"A seer... Who is neither man nor beast!"

"Very well, Sire."

"A seer... Who is neither alive nor dead!"

Reeve's courteous expression was beginning to hurt his face.

"Of course, Sire," said he. "I'll get right on that."

"Good man," said the king. "You have a week."

As the king's guards shuffled him out of the throne room, Reeve wondered if a week would be enough to scrounge up sufficient coin for a decent burial.

It was but a fleeting moment of weakness, for the inventor was a stubborn man. Two days he spent huddled over a desk in the king's library, leafing through tome after tome, until he discovered a treatise on seers by the esteemed court wizard Hojo. The wizard's work was thorough, describing the physiology of seer specimens in minute, albeit gruesome, detail. A seer's power lay in the eyes, Reeve learned. He hatched a plan. If he acquired a seer's eyes, he would acquire their gift.

He also learned that while demons were commonly blessed with foresight, it was a rare gift indeed among humans. As Reeve was a clever man, he had no desire to grapple with demons. But where could he find the eyes of a human seer in as little as a week? This was the question he posed to everyone he came across in the castle. He slipped into the king's throne room and canvassed the minor nobles in the back. Some politely declined having any such knowledge. Others gave him funny looks and suddenly remembered important errands in another part of town. The next day, most excused themselves before he could even introduce himself.

The inventor's spirits fell. He left the throne room disheartened, intent on seeking answers elsewhere, but before he could reach the courtyard, a woman caught up with him. A woman in the mostly tightly laced bodice he had ever seen, he could not help but notice. Her lips were the same blood-red hue as her dress. Reeve wondered if this was one of the women his mother had warned him about before he embarked on his journey.

"Tarry a while, _inventor_ ," said she. "I have a proposition for you."

Reeve felt the heat flood his face.

"I-I'm in a bit of a hurry–"

"Cease your stammering. You will come with me at once."

"But I–"

"Do you know who I am?"

Her blue eyes seemed to radiate an icy threat that froze the tongue in his mouth. Reeve shook his head, shrinking under her frigid glare.

"I am the king's _personal_ advisor. You may call me Lady Scarlet. Now move, unless you wish to lose your head _before_ the week is at an end."

She seized his arm in her vice-like claws. The touch chilled him to the marrow of his bones, and he was left with no choice but to follow.

Down halls and up stairways she took him. As they reached the upper floors which housed the king's advisors, a strange sight drew his eye. It was an automaton, no larger than a child and plated in gleaming gold. It tottered back and forth on stiff legs, accompanied by the whirs and clicks of unseen cogs within.

"Do not interfere with the guardians," warned Scarlet. "They are not as harmless as they look."

Reeve had heard of them, these metal guardians of Shinra. They were the envy of every inventor east of the great sea.

Alas, the woman did not allow him a closer examination. She brought him to a room, bare and unfurnished but for the banners lining the walls that bore the red diamond of Shinra's crest. A sallow man in a white robe stood hunched and still in the room's midst, like a gargoyle in wait for prey.

"Hmm," muttered he, peering at the inventor with beady eyes. "The quality of the skin leaves something to be desired, but the forehead exhibits a noble prominence. Potentially of use for my phrenology."

The man's voice scraped at Reeve's ears like sandpaper.

"Meet Hojo, the court wizard," said Scarlet.

_Oh flappyjacks_ , thought Reeve.

"Greetings, White Wizard," said he with a wary bow. "Your reputation precedes you."

"As does yours," said Scarlet. "The whole court has heard that you seek the eyes of a seer. It just so happens that I know where you can get them."

" _I_ knew of the seer," snapped the wizard. "We seek the same prize, inventor."

"A far-seer named Aerith dwells in the hinterlands up north, traveling with a backwards mountain tribe," said Scarlet, ignoring Hojo's interruption. "Capture her and bring her here. Her eyes shall be your reward. Hojo gets the rest."

_Something in the water_ , thought Reeve. _There must be something in the water around here._

"I'm not sure about this plan," said he. "It seems a tad illegal."

"I am the king's personal advisor. As long as you do my bidding, darling, you need not fear the law."

"It also strikes me as rather lacking in the ethics department."

Scarlet raised an eyebrow.

" _You_ are the one asking for eyes, inventor."

"Yes, but... I didn't mean ones that are still _attached_ to someone."

"Where exactly do you believe unattached ones come from?" asked Hojo.

The wizard stared at his eyes, unblinking like a serpent. Reeve swallowed and tried not to think of the diagrams of dissected eyeballs he had seen in the treatise.

"What about you, Lady Scarlet?" asked he. "What do you get out of this?"

"Well... It is such a shame to cut down a fine young man before his time," crooned she. "The court could use more handsome faces like yours."

The woman's smile was as unnerving as the wizard's stare, but it was her cool finger tracing his jaw that made Reeve consider fleeing into the nearest monastic order.

"It will never work," he sighed to himself. "I'll run out of time before I get even close."

"The seer will be cautious and hard to track down, but I am sure you are capable of it," said Scarlet, oblivious to his thoughts. "While you hunt, we will create a vessel for the eyes. I will furnish you with the metal body of one of my metal guardians. Hojo will provide the pelt of a great red cat."

"I will _not_ ," countered the wizard. "I acquired the specimen mere days ago. There is much yet to study."

"What can you possibly hope to learn from that wretched thing?" scoffed Scarlet. "It will best serve our goals as a pelt. We must create an imitation of a furry beast!"

_It could also be something in the air_ , mused Reeve. He knew of dangerous vapors that could drive men mad by slowly rotting their brains.

"An automaton covered in fur?" questioned he. "What will that accomplish?"

Scarlet gave a most self-satisfied smile.

"A being that is neither man nor beast, neither alive nor dead."

"Yes, but... _fur_?"

She fixed him with her cold blue eyes.

"It would not please the king to see one of his steel guardians perverted for your cause. A disguise is wiser."

_Inbreeding_ , thought Reeve. _Maybe inbreeding is the simplest explanation_. Nobles had the unfortunate tendency to favor bloodlines before sanity, after all. King Shinra was a shining example of it.

"This discussion is pointless, for I will not relinquish the specimen," droned the wizard. " _Research_ will best serve our goals, no matter the subject. Ignorance has plagued this land for centuries. _I_ will change this."

If those two would not come to an agreement over their mad scheme, they would remain here all day, and Reeve with them. He could not afford to waste that much time.

"May I make a suggestion?" asked Reeve. "Perhaps you could shave the, um, 'wretched thing'? The fur alone should be enough to conceal the metal chassis."

The king's advisors traded a look. Scarlet raised her eyebrows. Hojo was silent a while.

"That is acceptable," said he at last.

Reeve breathed a sigh of relief. However, if he wanted to keep his life, he would still need a seer.

"I don't suppose you have any suggestions for how to reach this Aerith? If she's the real deal, she'll, you know, _see_ me coming."

"There is a creature that may aid you," said Scarlet. "The fell beast of the mountain."

"What?!"

"Is it not obvious? The far-seer is the last princess of her people. If you wish to kidnap a princess..."

"...ask a dragon. Wonderful."

Even in a village as small and remote as Reeve's, the young and the old alike told hushed tales of the fell beast of the mountain, terror of the skies. A dragon red as blood, with breath that burned hotter than any furnace.

He was _so_ dead.

"Well, I'd best see to it then," Reeve said with his finest politest smile. "Wouldn't want to show up late and keep the dragon from his dinner."

Never do tomorrow that which you can do today, his mother had taught him. Reeve saw no reason not to apply the advice to gruesome deaths, too. Besides, death by dragon had a certain ring to it, compared to a simple beheading.

It took most of the afternoon to find a coachman willing to travel to the mountain. He stopped a good ways from the foot of the mountain and refused to go any nearer.

"You will you wait here, then?" wondered Reeve.

"Why?" said the coachman. "You're gonna go get eaten by the dragon, aintcha?"

"I'd like someone to witness the encounter and tell the tale of my bravery."

The coachman scratched his head.

"It's just gonna be a bunch of screamin', innit?"

"I'll pay you double."

"Well, why didn't ya say so to start with?"

After handing over the payment, Reeve climbed off the coach. The mountain loomed above them, jagged and dark. A rocky path wound its way off the road toward the mouth of a large cave. The inside of the cavern was shrouded in a darkness as black as the blasted ground outside.

With a deep breath, the inventor began the march up the path.

"I can go as soon as the screamin' starts, yeah?" yelled the coachman.

Reeve pretended not to hear him.

After the blinding sun of the plains, the cave's darkness was impenetrable. Reeve stood by the mouth of it, peering in. He pricked his ears, too. A few drops of water echoed from within. Loose rocks rattled faintly, but the direction was impossible to tell.

"Hey, mister!" hollered the coachman from the road. "Hurry up and get ate already! I wanna get back before dark!"

Reeve gritted his teeth, then stepped inside.

"Uh, hello?" called he in a trembling voice. "Mister Dragon?"

Deeper and deeper he ventured. The stink of sulphur hung heavy in the air, amongs other foul odors Reeve did not wish to identify. Each unsteady step sapped more and more courage from his knees.

"Hello?"

A hot wind hit his face, whispering of fiery death. He felt a presence beside him, but the next moment it was gone. Reeve had had enough. Forcing his wobbly knees to cooperate, he turned on his heel and fled.

He only made it a single step. An enormous body blocked his way, a great black silhouette against the brightness beyond the cavern's mouth. As he goggled in terror, the dark mass shifted. A head, crowned with a crest of twisted horns, rose high above him. Two giant eyes glared down into him, glittering like pale blue diamonds in the darkness. Without warning, the beast let out a mighty roar.

Reeve's knees gave up.

"Oh elfadunks!" cried he as he landed hard on his behind.

The creature's bellow dissolved into a snorting staccato.

"Oh man, that was priceless!" exclaimed the dragon, cackling with laughter. "You should've seen your face!"

Reeve gaped. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but the dragon appeared to be wiping tears from the corners of its eyes.

"Sorry, man, couldn't resist. Name's Reno. Who the hell are you?"

"Reeve. I-inventor."

"Well, Reeve Inventor, you ain't wavin' a sword in my face, so I'm guessin' you ain't tryin' to commit suicide by dragon. How come you're sneakin' into my lair?"

Reeve could scarce believe his ears. He had a chance after all! He would have liked to present his case while upright, but his legs were not ready to cooperate. Seated on the ground, the inventor squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.

"My lord Reno–"

"Pfft, what's with this 'lord' bullshit? It's Reno. Re-no. Nothin' more, nothin' less."

"Right. Um, I'm hoping I might hire you for a job."

The dragon tilted its head to one side.

"That's a first. What sorta job?"

"There's a princess I need kidnapped."

"Is that right? Keep talkin'."

"Her name's Aerith. I'm told she hides in the northern hinterlands."

"I know of her, yeah. What she ever do to you?"

"Well, nothing," admitted Reeve, rubbing the back of his neck. "It just so happens that I'm very attached to my head and would like to remain that way."

"How's nabbin' a princess gonna help?"

"I need to complete a task if I am to live. To do that, I need the eyes of a seer."

The dragon huffed. The puff of smoke from its nostrils made Reeve's throat itch.

"Sorry to break it to ya, but you got it wrong. The girl ain't a seer. She _listens_. Hears voices, that sorta thing. Bit creepy if you ask me, yo."

The dragon's body shook in a shudder so mighty that Reeve felt the ground vibrate under his feet. It did nothing to alleviate the state of his knees.

"B-but they want the princess," stammered he. "They told me she was a seer!"

The dragon's eyes narrowed to slits.

"'They', huh? Who's they?"

"King Shinra's advisors. Lady Scarlet and the court wizard."

The dragon stared at him for a while.

"So all ya really need is a seer's eyes, right? Not the whole princess?"

When Reeve nodded, the beast's lips drew back, revealing sharp teeth.

"Y'know, I just might be able to help ya out after all."

"Name your price, then. It has to be gold and jewels for you dragons, right?"

"Nah, I ain't one of 'em traditionalists. I'm thinkin' maybe we can help each other, yeah? You scratch my back, I scratch the eyes outta some real seer's skull."

"That sounds... _horrible_."

"'Kay, how about this? You scratch my back, I get ya what you need, no questions asked."

Reeve gave it some thought.

"That does _sound_ better," he conceded. "What do you want in return?"

"Told ya already, you scratch my back. I got this real itchy spot _right_ between my wings and these arms are way too short, see?" The beast threw an arm over its shoulder and scraped its wicked claws across the scales beneath its wing, igniting a shower of sparks. "Gotta get my hands on a back scratcher before I go nuts. I figure a brainy dude like you might come up with somethin' handy for me, eh?"

It was the most sensible request Reeve had heard since leaving his village. For the first time all week, he did not have to manufacture a smile out of manners alone.

"Sure. No problem."

"Awesome. Dontcha worry 'bout a thing, inventor man. Ol' Reno's got this, yo."

The chocobo coach was still waiting by the road.

"Oh, hey again," said the coachman as Reeve bounded down the path. "I heard a bunch of noise, but it wasn't _screamin'_ , really, so I figured I oughta–"

"To the nearest farm, my good man!" yelled the inventor, swinging himself up on the coach. "And make it quick! There's no time to lose!"

At sunset on the third day Reeve returned to the cave, his heart filled with equal measures of hope and trepidation. He had less than twenty-four hours to go. Tomorrow he would have to present himself – and his miraculous seer – at King Shinra's court. He fervently prayed the dragon had succeeded.

The dragon perched above the mouth of the cave, its leathery wings outstretched to soak up the last rays of the sun. The red scales shimmered in the afternoon light, as if the beast was made of living flame.

As Reeve climbed the steep path, the dragon leapt down to meet him. The tremor nearly sent him rolling down the mountainside.

"I've got whatcha asked for," said the dragon once Reeve had clambered all the way up. "Here ya go."

It dropped a pair of fleshy balls into the inventor's cupped hands. Nausea roiled in his gut as he examined them. The orbs in his hands stared back up at him. The irises were an icy blue, so very much like... Reeve swallowed hard.

"These eyes, they seem... awfully familiar."

"Yeah? Well, they ain't from nothin' human, if that helps. Got 'em from this real mean ice demon I hunted down for ya. No one's gonna miss her, yo."

"Oh. Oh... good?"

"I'd sure as hell say so," said the great beast, cleaning its teeth with a claw. "Now, how about your part of the bargain?"

"Follow me," said Reeve, hurriedly tucking the eyes into a pouch where they couldn't look at him. "It's not far."

The coachman had left the custom-made implement by the side of the road as instructed. Three rows of iron spikes had been welded to a heavy frame. A six-foot metal pole jutted out from the narrow end and made the whole thing look much like a giant hairbrush.

"It's a spike harrow," explained Reeve, "with a few modifications for, uh, draconian use."

The dragon wrapped its clawed hand around the handle. Lifting the scratcher onto the coach had taken the strength of four grown men, but its new owner raised it as if it were a mere twig. The metal groaned as the dragon smacked it down between its wings and raked the spikes across the gleaming scales.

"Oh, this is _perfect_ ," purred the beast. "Thanks, inventor man. Nice doin' business with ya."

"Happy to help," said Reeve, basking in the pride of a job well done. "I'll just get out of your, uh, horns now."

"Oh, hey," said the dragon before he could take a single step, "I'm gonna head down to the beach. Maybe find some thunderbirds to roast, y'know, make a picnic of it. You wanna come with?"

Reeve declined, though regret crept up on him the moment he turned his back. The dragon seemed like a decent fellow. One day he would return, the inventor vowed to himself. Assuming he lived to see the end of the next one.

Arriving back at King Shinra's castle, Reeve made haste to the wizard's workshop. An odious stench lingered in the air. It may have emanated from the cages that lined the walls, filled with all manner of strange beasts. One stranger than most caught his eye. It huddled in a corner of its cage, bare as a newborn babe. Its tail was on fire, but this did not seem to bother the creature; instead Reeve was the focus of its baleful glare.

"Ah, the inventor with the exceptional forehead," droned a nasal voice by Reeve's ear, making him jump. Hojo was hovering by his elbow. "Where is the specimen?"

It took him a few moments to connect the court wizard's words with the princess Aerith. _Oh featherpuffs_ , thought he. In his haste to design a back scratcher of titanic proportions, Reeve had forgotten his other obligations.

"She'll be delivered to you later," blurted he in a panic. "She's... at the healer! Because, uh... You know, the whole eye thing."

He gave a nervous laugh, that petered out as Hojo continued to stare at him with those blank soulless eyes.

"Very well," the wizard said at long last. "The experiment, such as it was, was a success."

He pointed at a mound of hair on a workbench. Reeve waited politely for him to continue, but Hojo shuffled over to a cage and picked up a stick.

"A success, you say," said the inventor uncertainly.

"Yes. Terribly dull and unimaginative, but functional. Take it and leave."

As he spoke, the wizard examined the ends of the stick; one blunt, the other pointy. Reeve turned away to study the furry heap. He frowned, then approached it with wary steps. He gave it a tentative poke. Beneath a thin layer of hair, his finger found a surface hard as steel. No, hard as _gold_ , he realized upon a closer look.

It _was_ the promised vessel, only... it was not quite what Reeve had expected. As far as he could tell, the wizard had dunked the guardian in a vat of glue, then emptied a sack of shorn fur over it.

"Its, ah, appearance leaves something to be desired."

"Function over form," said the wizard in an absent-minded mumble, prodding the caged critter with the blunt end of the stick.

"There is no function. It's just a mindless drone!"

Hojo poked the critter again. It snarled, snapping its jaws. The wizard made a humming sound and picked up a piece of parchment.

"Function of inanimate objects is _your_ task, not mine," said he, scribbling down several lines with a feathered pen. "Get to it, boy."

The inventor could not leave, however, until he had voiced the question that was nagging at him.

"Where's Lady Scarlet?"

"I do not trouble myself with petty concerns like the whereabouts of the king's servants. Now begone and leave me to my work. Our dealings are at an end."

The wizard grabbed the stick again, switching to the pointy end. Paling, Reeve snatched up the furry monstrosity and scurried out of the wizard's laboratory.

In the basement of the castle, the inventor set his burden down on the floor of an empty store room. He opened the automaton's face plate, removed the crystal oculi and squished in the seer's eyes in their stead. The blue eyes seemed to stare straight into him, as though they could put an evil curse on him with their gaze alone. After a moment's consideration, Reeve fetched a pot of paint and smeared a thick layer on them.

Painted milky white, the automaton's eyes looked completely blind. _Perfect_ , thought Reeve. _Sightless seers are all the rage these days_.

Everything was in place. Only one step of the process remained: the incantation that would bring it to life. Reeve produced a small box and unlocked it with the key he kept safe on a chain around his neck. Inside was his most prized tool and possession: a small globe glowing with mystical power. Holding the sphere in a closed fist above his head, the inventor focused his mind on the automaton.

"Bolt!"

Lightning leapt out of thin air and crackled across the tiny body, until the spell culminated in a flash so bright it left spots dancing in his eyes. He blinked furiously and squeezed them shut, rubbing his eyelids. When he opened them again, he could make out a tiny figure on the floor. A rather well-illuminated figure. The automaton had caught fire.

"Oh shuttlecocks!"

The inventor ripped off his coat and threw it over the flames, knocking over them both in his frantic attempts to stave the fire. He rolled the automaton back and forth until every lick of flame was extinguished. Then he slumped back, leaning heavily on his hands as he stared at the uneven lump wrapped in his singed coat. His last, single hope had just gone up in smoke.

The coat moved.

Blackened limbs appeared beneath the fabric, clawing at the stone floor. Reeve stared. His mind recoiled in revulsion but he was unable to look away. Inch by inch, the smoking ruin of his future crawled into view. Recoiling in terror, the inventor scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall.

The disfigured automaton jerked and quivered into an upright position. It shambled forward with outstretched hands, until it stumbled on the pot of paint on the floor. The pot fell over, spilling its contents on the floor, and the creature landed face-first in the puddle. To Reeve's dismay, it struggled onto its feet again, its whole front now smeared with white paint. Closer and closer it lurched, as if guided by some unholy instinct for human flesh.

A tiny hand nudged his knee. Frozen in horror, Reeve could do nothing but stare as the creature grabbed hold of him, then patted around midair until it found the other knee. It leaned forward into his face. His nostrils stung from the acrid smoke that rose from the charred fur. The paint clung to its body, painting its belly and face a ghastly white. Its lips drew back, revealing a pair of glistening golden fangs. Reeve squeezed his eyes shut.

"Hey, mister! Wanna hear your fortune? 'Tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of your life.'"

Reeve snapped his eyes open to gape at the knee-high monstrosity before him. A moment ago it had been nothing but an agglomeration of horrors. Now? Now, it was _beautiful_.

* * *

Uneasy murmurs rippled through the court as Reeve strode into the throne room. The automaton waddled along in his wake, shrouding them both in a miasma of burnt fur and paint fumes. Together they took up position before the king.

"Behold, Sire," declared Reeve. "Your challenge is completed!"

The court frothed like a sea of gasps and exclamations, until King Shinra smashed his fist on the throne. His face was pale and grim.

"What is this embodiment of foulness that stands before me?" barked he.

Reeve straightened to his fullest height, puffing out his chest with pride.

"It's a seer that is neither man nor beast, neither alive nor dead," he declared. "I call it Cait Sith, for like the spectral cat of legend, this is a creature of curious and awesome power!"

The creature waved. Its smile did not quite fit with the nose and eyes Reeve had drawn on the paint-smeared face, in a vain attempt to make it less terrifying.

The king considered this for a moment.

"Prove yourself, creature! Provide us with a prophecy!"

"Oh boy, a fortune!" cried the newly-minted Cait, bouncing up and down. "Here it comes! 'Rejoice, for the greatest love of your life approaches!'"

The whole court waited with bated breath. Wary glances darted this way and that, but no one dared speak.

The throne room doors opened. A mousy servant scurried in, carrying a covered tray. _Preposterous_ , the nobles babbled. _The king in love with a servant girl?_

"My liege," said she with a deep curtsey, "here are the cinnamon rolls you requested."

"Hmm," said the king to Cait as he picked up a roll. "Had these been buttery buns I would have been inclined to believe you, but cinnamon rolls?" The king scoffed, handing the roll to the royal taster. "Third greatest, at best."

"Sorry, it's a bit hard to see clearly. Some cheeky bugger splashed paint all over my eyes. It's close enough, innit?"

"I am not convinced. Try again."

"All right, all right. Ahem. 'Beware, for all that glitters is not gold.'"

A hush fell over the court as everyone checked their rings and necklaces. It was broken by a choked cry as the taster slumped to the ground, convulsing and foaming at the mouth.

"See?" cried Reeve. "Those rolls sure aren't golden!"

"They do not glitter either," scoffed the king.

"But it's a metaphorical–"

"Silence! You have one last chance before I have you pecked apart by starving chocobos!"

"Sheesh, okay!" said Cait, its painted face contorted into something that may have been intended as a frown. "How about this one? 'Until the dead walk and the stars fall from the sky, the clan of Shinra shall rule!'"

The silence was absolute. Every eye was glued to the king, who stared at the tiny abomination in barefaced awe.

"That..." said he, drawing out the word, "is an _excellent_ prophecy." The king stood tall and raised his voice. "I deem this challenge met! For this, you will be rewarded!"

In his mind, Reeve rejoiced. He could not wait to make the journey back to his village, patronage secured, and tell his mother all about his adventures.

"I am in need of a new advisor," continued King Shinra, "for Lady Scarlet was found murdered to bits the other day. By this deed, you have proven yourself a worthy successor."

Reeve's mouth fell open. As he stared dumbly at the king, a pair of servants scurried over and draped a blue robe over his shoulders.

"For services rendered to the crown, I hereby grant you the title of Royal Roboturge!" cried the king. "May you serve me well until your dying day!"

_Oh fiddlesticks_ , thought Reeve.

And so the royal roboturge and his ungodly creation lived anxiously ever after.

* * *

"I'm the unholy bastard child of Hojo and Scarlet?" Cait Sith shrieked, clutching his furry face.

Reno leaned back in his chair, planting his feet beside the toy cat perched on the workbench.

"Yup. True story, kitty cat."

With a pitiful wail, the cat whipped his head around to stare at his creator.

"It's _not_ a true story," Reeve said with a weary sigh. "You know better than to believe a single word he says, Cait. You know what he's like."

The red-haired Turk shot him a dirty look.

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

"It means you're a sneak, a cheat and the worst liar ever employed by the Shinra company," Reeve said absently, his attention focused on disconnecting his robotic cat from the diagnostic tools.

"I resent that," Reno sniffed, crossing his arms in a haughty manner. "I ain't the worst liar ever employed by Shinra. I'm the freakin' _best_ , yo."


End file.
